The Favourite?

In the search of peace, I became deaf. When I wanted to live, I chose death.

~ark

And the highlighter of mundanity, Bathed the whole book.

~ark

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I think I finally understand The rose's thorns I too want to be loved Without being touched

So I am no romantic flower I embody the stem I want to be ideal And practically unattainable

The Ashes of Herself

The relics of her feelings, The ashes of her burnt soul, Were locked in an old chest, Buried deep in her heart enclosed. The burden of those burials gradually, Outweighed her. She wanted to get rid of it, As the weight had been consuming her.

That day, The chest opened itself, And dissolved the ashes in the rivers of tears, After years, she felt relieved and alive. She could finally breathe with a pleasant sigh.

There kept a pen on the table, Staring back at her. It was time to write her life again. The droplets of tears fell like rain, Wetting the paper on which, She had to sculpt her life ahead.

She instead wrote everything about her past self, Burnt it, and dissolved the ashes of herself, In a peaceful river. She then wrote again, Looking at herself in the unbreakable mirror, Unknown to what would happen ahead, But known to what would never happen again.

~ark

Blinded Eyes

I trusted my eyes blindly,

I guess that's what humans do.

But my illusion shattered,

As the pigments of lies,

Reflected the fictitious truth.

The light was biased, I believed,

But its innocence was trapped in an endless loop.

Refusing to bow before the unproven facts,

I decided to perceive it with a different view.

I tried to become a pigment myself,

Reflecting my sins into actions my apathy sew.

But the law of the cosmos remained constant,

I surrendered, confessing to my vengeance's coup.

~ark

Maybe they were better without my helping hand, Sucking on my feelings, I became a barren land, Maybe for them, I was never more than a friendship band.

~ark

Diminishing Hope

I let myself suffer,

With intentions that were never pure.

Standing at the piedmont of growth,

I felt my feet frozen, unable to move anywhere.

My eyes scanned both the ways,

Walking onto which, my survival would be declared.

Afraid of the extremes,

I chose to never try, I turned away with shun ears.

Lacking the courage to fight for my life,

I stood freezing gradually, I faced my fears.

Melting by the newly found energy,

I became essential, drops of water to be shared.

Known to the fact of being fatal,

I returned from my illusions unreal.

In the diminishing hope of reality,

My pain defined me,

The master of my endless prayers.

~ark

And, when I held it in my hands, I realized how beautiful, Someone's creation can be. How beautiful someone's vision can be, Their creativity, their minds, How beautiful a person can be.

~ark

"People empty me. I have to get away to refill."

– Charles Bukowski

When I hope, I drown

~ark